


Crazy Came Visiting

by KatieComma



Series: Harper Hayes [1]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: M/M, Mild Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 07:02:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14910617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieComma/pseuds/KatieComma
Summary: Mac's house isn't the only one that gets visits of the crazy psycho killer variety. Jack's surprised at home and used as bait for Mac.





	Crazy Came Visiting

**Author's Note:**

> This idea popped into my head and I kinda thought it was fun... I LOVED Harper Hayes as a bad guy. She was equal parts crazy and badass.

Back from dinner with the fam, Jack grabbed a brew from the fridge and settled down on the couch for some TV. 

He cracked his beer; It didn’t hiss when he twisted the cap and broke the seal. Hopefully it wasn’t flat. First sip was still cold and fizzy. Perfect. He gulped it back greedily, and slouched back into the cushions. It wasn’t long before the drone of the sportscaster put him to sleep and he drifted off.

 

Just like every time they’d had sex, it was a heady mix of testosterone and lust. All animal impulses and hard muscle, there were no womanly curves to hold onto, no soft body to be gentle with; It was intoxicating to know exactly how each touch would feel on your own body if it were reciprocated.

Their kisses were hard and messy, crashing together and tasting like the musk that hung in the air between them.

Legs tangled in the sheets of his bed, Jack wrestled for better purchase with his knees so he could keep moving his hips just that right way. That way that was causing those perfect noises to keep rising up in Mac’s throat.

 

 

And then the dream ended, and Jack slowly surfaced to find a face swimming before him in his hazy half-waking focus. He smiled, thinking it was probably just Mac. Then his focus came clearer and revealed a face with dark hair and eyes the color of sun shining through a bottle of whiskey.

Jack startled, and tried to jump up from the chair but found several obstacles in his way: 1) he was tied expertly, and very tightly, to the chair by his hands and feet, and 2) a very ominous looking woman was straddling his lap, pinning him down. Alright, so really just two obstacles, and number one by itself was enough to do the job.

Once Jack’s head came all the way up from sleep, he recognized the heap of crazy in front of him. “Well hello Ms. Harper Hayes, and how’ve you been?”

Her crazy smile widened, narrowing the eyes that were so full of emptiness. Jack actually felt a bit scared of her.

She didn’t answer his question. “Somebody was having a good dream,” she said suggestively as she wriggled her hips against him, the friction stoking his arousal against his will. “Or are you just happy to see me?”

“Now, why wouldn’t I be happy to see you?” Jack asked jovially. “Maybe because last time we came face to face you shot me?”

Harper slowly stood up and walked away from Jack toward his coffee table. She picked up the bottle of beer he’d left there, and sniffed at the contents. “This time, I just drugged you instead. Less mess.”

“Well that’s surely nice of you,” Jack replied, “but why would you go on and do a thing like that instead’a just killin’ ole Jack?”

Harper’s smile widened even more as she dropped the bottle back onto the table. “Cause I’m not here for you, cowboy,” she said, “you’re the bait.”

Jack’s phone rang. Harper warily watched it buzz, like she thought it might get up and walk around. The call went to voicemail.

“It’s been ringing off the hook like that for a while now,” she said. “Somebody’s anxious that you aren’t picking up.”

“I’m a popular guy,” Jack replied. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you locked up in a military prison last I heard?”

“I was,” she said, walking back to Jack and, unfortunately, taking up her seat in his lap again.

“Could you just take a few steps back? Like, maybe about thirty feet back that way, right off the fire escape?” Jack asked, motioning with his head.

“I was stuck in that dungeon, sentenced as a traitor,” she continued, ignoring him, “but they didn’t take into account that my skills are in high demand.”

“Seriously though, that chair over there is right comfy too,” Jack said, nodding with his head toward a cushioned leather chair across the room.

“See, those other guys, they just got recruited out here in the real world,” Harper said, staring straight into Jack’s eyes. Jesus, did this girl ever blink? “But he sprung me from prison. I owe him more than those asshats he scraped up off the street.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” things were starting to clear up for Jack, and he was finding it easier to ignore the problem in his lap, “are you talkin’ about the collective here? That league of super villains that Murdoc wrangled together? I thought they broke up, like the Beatles?”

Jack’s phone rang again. Harper just stared at him while it rang and rang, filling the apartment with the annoying tone. He really needed to update his ring tone, but the phone was still new and he hadn’t had the chance yet.

Once it quit, she continued as though there had been no interruption. “Oh they did Jack,” she said. He hated the way she said his name, almost sexy but somehow rotten instead. “But I’m back out on my own now, and I don’t like to owe people. I’m squaring up.”

“Squarin’ up?” Jack asked.

“There’s only one thing in the world that Murdoc wants,” Harper said, “and that’s Angus MacGyver.”

“So you’re gonna try to dangle me like bait?” Jack asked, laughing. “Listen honey, I know this might be hard for you to understand, since you’re crazier than a bag full’a cats, but we could be sittin’ here for weeks if that’s your plan. No guarantees anybody’s gonna come lookin’ for me.”

Jack’s cell rang again.

“Your phone’s telling a different story,” Harper said, getting off his lap again to retrieve the phone from the coffee table. With no change of demeanor she hurled the phone as hard as she could against the wall. The phone shattered into a thousand little pieces.

“Aww, come on now,” Jack pleaded, frowning at the remnants on the floor. “I just got that phone.”

“I do my research Jack,” Harper said, straddling Jack’s lap again. She leaned in to whisper in Jack’s ear. “And I know exactly what is most dear to Angus MacGyver’s heart.” Her warm breath gave him goose bumps, and not the good kind. “You don’t have to do anything. Just sit here like a good boy and wait with me.”

“That’s plenty,” Jack frowned. “Do you ever hear yourself talk? That’s torture all on its own.”

“Torture,” she rolled the word around her tongue. She leaned down, putting unfortunate pressure in just the right spot while she grabbed the knife from her boot. Jack took deep breaths and tried to think of taking a cold shower. In different circumstances, minus her lack of regard for ending human life, Jack wouldn’t have hesitated taking this girl to bed. She twirled the knife around in her hand, and somehow he got even more aroused. “Interesting idea. See, when he gets here, I wonder if he wouldn’t be thrown off his game to find you bleeding. Maybe missing a tongue?”

“A tongue?” Jack asked, and suddenly his libido was under control again. “But I only got the one, and I’d really, really like to keep it.”

“An ear, then?” She replied. “Or something small to start with,” her tone was suggestive as she ground her hips down against him, and trailed the tip of the knife down his chest toward his lap.

What were his options? His feet weren’t free, so he wouldn’t be able to walk to the wall and break the wooden chair beneath him. Tipping the chair over wouldn’t do him any good. And the restraints were tight. Like, cutting off the oxygen tight. He was going to have to wait for Mac.

“You know, if he’s anticipatin’ something he’s gonna come in hot with a tac team,” Jack said. “Probably best if you just cut out now and save yourself the trouble.”

Harper laughed and it was disconcerting. “I don’t think a few missed phone calls are going to have him calling in the cavalry. Plus, are you forgetting that I took out that entire squad on board that jet? Well-trained, fully outfitted soldiers. I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself.”

“Didn’t we get you that time?” Jack asked. “I’m pretty sure we won that one.”

Her face was suddenly blank. It wasn’t that her smile faded, or that she frowned, but her smile just suddenly wasn’t there anymore and her face was cold.

“You’re right,” Jack backtracked, “you’re right. Poor choice of words on my part.” He paused for only a moment before he matched her cold stare. “We didn’t just win, we totally wiped the floor with your crazy ass.”

Before he could even see the movement, she was on her feet and punching him hard in the face. Jack shook it off.

“Anyone ever tell you, you punch like a girl?” He said. “I’ll tell ya one thing. I’d rather you were punchin’ me in the face than sittin’ in my lap sweetheart.”

“This is gonna be a long night,” Harper huffed, sheathing her knife, and going over to the small table up against the back wall where she had an array of weapons laid out.

 

Jack had just gotten down to 27 bottles of beer on the wall when the key slid into the lock on his apartment door. Jack increased the volume on his singing, hoping that Harper had missed the sound that was so familiar to him. He also hoped that it was Mac, and not Riley coming over to check on him.

Once the key had turned in the lock, Jack stopped singing.

“Now see here sweetheart,” Jack started, getting her attention. “What’s it been? Like, a couple hours, and nobody’s shown up?”

Harper turned toward him, she was currently checking her sidearm for the five hundredth time, it seemed to be a nervous habit of hers. “It’s been forty eight minutes,” she replied. “Now, I believe you were at 26.”

Jack didn’t look at the door as it opened slowly and quietly behind her. The shock of blonde hair that he saw out of the corner of his eye was such a relief he almost sighed, but instead held Harper’s gaze and started singing again.

“I’m not stupid,” she said, still locking eyes with him.

“Never said you were stupid darlin’,” Jack replied. “Crazy, yeah. I think I said that a few times.”

She brought the gun down quickly on his face, and Jack tasted blood. He started to laugh. “You know sweetie, this has been so much fun. I think we’ve really bonded.” She pistol-whipped him again. 

Jack laughed louder.

“I’ll shoot him,” she called out over her shoulder as she took a step back and held the gun up, pointing it directly at Jack’s chest.

Funny: Normally guns aimed at his chest didn’t really feel that threatening. But normally he was in the field and wearing a tac vest. But she hadn’t come for Jack, she’d come for Mac, and he’d just walked right into her trap. She could kill Jack anytime she wanted now. Jack wanted to close his eyes. He didn’t want to see that muzzle flash right at the end, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He wanted to see Mac again, one more time before this nutjob killed him.

What the hell kind of attitude was that? Jack reminded himself that they’d gotten out of much worse scrapes, and put his faith back in his boy. They were going to walk away from this one.

“I won’t hesitate,” Harper said, walking around to the back of Jack’s chair, changing her aim to his head, so she could see the other side of the room. “He’s really been pissing me off the for the past hour, I’m ready and willing to pull this trigger.”

“Forty eight minutes,” Jack corrected her, peeking at her over his shoulder.

Her face remained the cold mask of a killer.

Jack looked out over the room, but couldn’t see where Mac had hidden himself.

“Here’s the deal,” Harper said, “I’m here for you, MacGyver. I said I’d bring you in alive. Let’s trade. You come with me, and Mr. Dalton here can live out the rest of his days singing country songs, drinking cheap beer and watching Sunday Night Football.”

“Don’t do it Mac!” Jack called out.

Harper didn’t hit him again, which came as a surprise.

Mac stepped out from behind the kitchen counter, hands held up. Closer than Jack had suspected.

“What’re you doin’ Mac?” Jack asked, struggling against his bonds. There was a compulsion in Jack to protect Mac, and when he couldn’t it was almost physically painful.

Mac looked at Jack, his bright eyes sparkling the way they did when he was thinking. He was always thinking. “She won’t hurt me,” Mac said, turning his attention to Harper. “She just said she won’t hurt me. So let’s talk this out.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t hurt you,” Harper said, Jack could hear the smile in her words. “I said I wouldn’t kill you. Very big difference kid.”

Mac was taking slow deliberate steps toward them, getting closer by the second. Jack looked down and saw that Mac’s fingers were twitching the way they did when he had a plan. Usually his fingers only twitched like that when the plan was bad and he was worried. It was about that time when Mac would normally have said something like: I’ve got a plan, and you’re going to hate it. Jack braced himself for whatever was about to happen.

“Alright,” Mac said, taking a few more steps. “Leave Jack here, alive and well, and I’ll go with you.”

There was a long pause from Harper. “I don’t know what you’ve got up your sleeve, but I’m curious to find out,” she said.

Mac took a few more steps. “So, just lower the gun, alright?” A couple more steps and Mac was almost even with Jack’s chair now.

“You got it boy scout,” Harper said, her voice reeking with confidence.

At that moment, Mac leapt forward. Jack craned his neck this way and that to see what was going on. The two were wrestling on the ground for the gun. 

Sheer brute strength? This was his plan? What a terrible plan. They wrestled on the floor until Mac threw the gun clear of their fighting.

“Watch out for the table at the back Mac,” Jack warned, “she’s got a ton more weapons over there.”

Harper got in a good punch that turned the fight in her favor and she straddled Mac’s chest, raining blows down on him and pinning his arms to his sides until he was able to get a grip on her thighs and throw her over his head.

Then they were on their feet, dancing around each other. Harper pulled the knife from her boot and slashed at him repeatedly, until he was able to parry a high attack with a sweep of one of his feet to bring her back to the floor. 

Mac was near to Jack’s chair and quickly cut one of his arms free, dropping the Swiss Army Knife into Jack’s lap. Then Harper was back on her feet slashing at Mac, who dodged, trying to keep her from getting near the table full of weapons, or Jack.

Jack began to cut free his other limbs, and by the time he was up and over to the table full of guns, Harper had bolted out of the door. Mac chased after her, but one last swing of the knife nicked his forearm and then she was gone. Mac flipped the lock on the door behind her and pulled out his cell.

“Matty, tac team to Jack’s place,” Mac said. “Harper Hayes was just here.” He paused. “Yes, that Harper Hayes.” He hung up the phone and approached Jack. “You alright man?”

Jack lowered the gun he’d grabbed from the table. “Yeah I’m just fine,” Jack said. “Hopefully her crazy didn’t rub off on me.”

“What the hell was that all about?” Mac asked.

Jack filled him in on Harper’s connection to Murdoc. “Did we even know she was out of prison?” Jack asked.

“I didn’t know,” Mac replied. “But she was in military prison, and they don’t really like to admit when they’ve made a mistake, so they probably didn’t release that information to anyone.”

“Well that makes me feel a whole lot better,” Jack said sarcastically, reluctantly setting the gun back down on the table. “Ok, now let’s get to the part where your plan was to get into a fist fight with some psycho chick with a gun?”

“Sometimes the only option is to do things the Jack Dalton way,” Mac replied with a smile. 

“I would like to point out that Jack Dalton does things the Jack Dalton way with a gun,” he said.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Mac asked, touching the bruise that was forming where she’d pistol-whipped him.

Jack cringed, and grabbed Mac’s hand, pulling it away. “She hit me in the face with her gun, I’m not feeling the best I’ve ever felt, but I’ll be fine,” Jack said, keeping Mac’s hand in his own. “What about you? She got a couple good swings in. And that cut.”

“Superficial,” Mac said, shrugging away Jack’s worries. “It’s not even bleeding anymore.”

And they were close, and looking at each other in that way they did when something almost went bad. Before Jack could initiate, Mac’s mouth found his. Their kisses were hard and tasted a little coppery like blood. The pain from the bruises on Jack’s face didn’t phase him, and he grabbed a handful of Mac’s hair to try to force them closer together, though he knew it was impossible. Mac tore at Jack’s shirt, trying to pull it off, seemingly unable to figure out which way to pull it to make that happen.

Jack pushed himself back from Mac, gasping for air, and pulled his shirt off, leaving his silver Saint Michael medal hanging against his chest.

“Hold on,” Mac said as he drew out his cell phone and dialed. “Yeah, Matty?”

Jack listened to Mac’s phone call as he started for the bedroom, undoing his belt and dropped his pants to the floor on the way.

“When the tac team gets here, tell them outside surveillance only,” Mac’s voice echoed from the living room, “we’ve got the inside covered.”

Maybe Jack would get to make good on that dream of his after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this story really teases the sex and then just... ends... maybe one day I'll get up the guts to write a second part full of smut... but I'm not 100% confidant in my writing of m/m sex scenes yet. Sorry to be a tease!


End file.
